


The Spirit of the Oasis

by Vesperchan



Series: Tumblr Shorts [15]
Category: Naruto
Genre: 1001 night elements, AU, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M, Fairytale elements, Fantasy, Gaara is going on an adventure, Magic, Pablo Sebastian dress writing, Sakura is cursed, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21826180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperchan/pseuds/Vesperchan
Summary: Gaara doesn't believe in the fairytales the elders spin, but when his siblings go off into the desert chasing one, he isn't far behind. Along the way he might just meet someone who helps him believe.
Relationships: Gaara/Haruno Sakura
Series: Tumblr Shorts [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1228031
Comments: 14
Kudos: 126





	The Spirit of the Oasis

**Author's Note:**

> poppy-muffins asked: Sirens of the Sea, 12, and gaasaku for a friend. If you do it thank you so much

There are stories of miracles that are whispered in shadows, behind hands, and over night time campfires because they need to be, and not because they are true or worth believing. Least of these stories are the ones of the oasis that bloom for the pure of heart who are most in need of them. Magic carpets, cities of brass, and enchanted flutes were all a poor man’s fantasy and Gaara was no longer a poor man, so there was no use in believing in such stories. 

“You think you’re too good for old Baba’s stories?” Chiyo teased Gaara.”My grandson thought that way too.”

“I’m not going to end up like your grandson,” Gaara grumbled, hating how he had to show his elder such respect when all she did was tease him. 

“That’s what he said too, when I told him about my lover who said the same damn thing,” Chiyo laughed, slapping her knee while her brother fed another log to the fire from beside her, silent as ever. 

Gaara winced, unable to clear his mind of the mental image of old-bag Chiyo having someone she could call a lover. It was such a dirty sounding word when she said it. 

“That’s…understandable I suppose,” Gaara forced out.

“You ain’t gonna ask me what my lover did or what happened to ‘em?” Chiyo whined playfully.

Gaara really didn’t want to ask. 

“What happened, elder?” 

But he was a good kid.

Chiyo’s beady black eyes sparkles from underneath the sagging of her skin, heavy with bushy gray brows. “Hey commissioned a friend to map the desert for the brass rider and got that far before the way was no longer for them.”

“What does that mean, baba?” Temari asked. 

Behind Gaara his brother and sister sat on their own mats, drinking from the elder’s stash of wine and gorging themselves on her food. Gaara took only enough to be polite but did not consume. He was the head of his tribe now, he couldn’t afford to piss off an elder. 

“He had received the words of his elder, to travel across the desert, to seek the aid of the brass rider, and follow where it would lead. But with no faith, he relied on his friend the cartographer to map his steps. Without faith he was a lost one, as was my daughter, as was her husband, as was their child, my grandson.” 

Baba Chiyo reached into her sack cloth dress and pulled out the blue powder before throwing it onto the fire, changing the color of the flames and making their burning smell sweeter. Kankuro leaned forward in his seat, excited by the change blue powder produced. It was a simple traveler’s trick, nothing but small science, but to a people without education, Gaara understood how it could seem like magic. 

“It is a sin to seek without faith.”

“It is foolish indeed,” Temari agreed, always the faithful daughter. When the mystics had said the murderer of their mother and not she who was first born would lead their tribe she had bent her head in thanks for the prophecy and never questioned it. She should have hated him but her faith saved him from that life of neglect, so as much as Gaara wanted to sneer and think himself wiser than the superstitious sand witch, he would honor her words and listen. 

“Are we called to seek, wise woman?” Kankuro asked. 

Chiyo cackled and rocked back in her seat while her brother poked at the fire. “Are you destined for greatness, or does the bird long to fly? Which is easier to answer, I ask you?”

“It is a great honor to be so star blessed,” Temari whispered, watching Kankuro with soft eyes and softer thoughts. When she looked to Gaara her softness didn’t lessen and he felt all the safer for it. In the absence of their mother, Temari had been his maternal comfort for all those years. He would not deny her this. 

“Speak of our fate, elder,” Gaara said as he lowered his face to the sand and the ground. He touched it to his fingers and closed his eyes. “I beseech you, speak it.” 

Between them the blue fire crackled and the desert night spun on. Eventually, Chiyo breaks the silence and Gaara knows he is allowed to lift his face to her once more. 

“I will say this then, you own a great and vast land, and on that land you have built up your father’s estate so that is the envy of others, but it yet lacks three things. The first is this, a talking bird who speaks only wisdom, second is the tree that sings prophecies, and third is the golden water from the fountain without end. Come into possession of these three things and you will be made far greater than any that came before you in the tribe of the Wind.” 

“Oh elder, these are grade items indeed, but how would we begin to find them?” Temari asked, already sounding in love with the idea. Gaara stayed quiet, content to honor his sister with whatever she wanted within reason. 

Chiyo waved to the fire and the draft that followed her hand made the flames flicker. “You should travel for three days in the direction of the sun’s birthing, and then you will find a fallen king who has traded his riches for humility. Treat him kindly and he will tell you where to find your three treasures.” 

Gaara glanced sideways at his brother, grimacing at the star struck look in Kankuro’s eyes. Sometimes he was no better than their sister when it came to matters of fate. 

The night grew long and Gaara bid Chiyo and her brother farewell, departing with his siblings back to their tribe and back to their manor. They slept soundly through the night, but the morning had nothing but turmoil for them. 

As luck would have it, Kankuro became obsessed with the idea and in short order packed up and headed out on his adventure to seek his fortune, both for himself and for the family. And for all of Temari’s faith she did not want to risk the life of her brother. She begged Kankuro to reconsider, but the middle child was unswayable. 

“Take your hawk with you,” Gaara instructed. “If he should return to us for any reason we will know you have perished and mourn you properly.”

The suggestion only made Temari more upset but Kankuro gathered up the leathers and hood for his hunting hawk and promised the both of them he would return with enough riches to make them sultans. 

Yet seven days later his hawk returned itself to their garden and the whole house mourned for the loss of the firstborn son. 

“This is the price of faith,” Gaara said to his sister in his anger, only to regret his words hours later once his spirit had cooled. 

He tried to apologize but Temari had locked the doors to her chambers and forbid the servants entry. She kept her doors shut no matter the hour of the day. Gaara ordered her favorite dishes be made, her favorite coffee be brewed, and even burned her favorite spices to coax her out, but his sister was unreachable for days. 

Four days later Gaara had reached the end of his patience and ordered her doors be broken down. He refused to let his sister starve herself and leave him too. She was all he had left and the thought of life without her-

“She’s not here, my lord!” 

Gaara’s thoughts unraveled. “What do you mean?” 

The servant produced a note and bowed low. “She has fled and taken her hunting hawk with her. Mercy, my lord, we did not know.”

Kankuro’s headstone had not been planted yet and already he was to commission a second? The thought turned his blood to ice.

“Make ready my horse.” 

Gaara rode for a day to the edge of his territory before he saw his sister’s hawk, flying to greet him along the way. In the wild desert he cried aloud, summoning it down so that he could weep over it’s feathers and scream for the audience of his animals. No one could hear him in the desert so he let his heart show. Nowhere else would he be so honest. 

“You have forsaken me, you have gone where I can not!” he cried into the sands for nearly the rest of the day. 

When night fell Gaara noticed his horse had run off and the hawk had disappeared with it, leaving him truly alone. He took shelter under the shade of a rock outpost and rested there. 

The morning came, and with it, thirst. All his food and water had been tied up under his saddle bags, leaving him with nothing more than his shoes and clothes. He had a small bag of money, but in the middle of the desert it was more worthless than dirt. 

“I have wasted too many tears on my family, soon I will join them. If only there would be someone left to miss me.”

Gaara stood and trekked in the direction of his home, not realizing his sense of direction was off. At the end of the second day he was weak and too tired to rouse himself further, so he took shelter under some more rocks and cried without tears. 

He was the youngest, what were they thinking making him their chief! He had been the only one with enough good sense to resist Chiyo’s silly superstitions and look where that got him; his faithful sister lost, his older brother dead. 

His head swam with exhaustion and dehydration, so when he looked up and saw an oasis growing out of the dead earth he did not believe the sight of it. How silly for his brain to play such a mean trick on him. An oasis would bloom for the faithful in their time of need, the old stories said. 

Out of all his siblings he had the least faith. What had faith done for Kankuro or Temari? 

But his body felt like something he no longer controlled as he roused himself and staggered towards the mirage, smelling wildflowers and water in the air. His feet touched the stone and then the earth, soaked and wet before he fell onto his knees and plunged his hands into the water, sinking them up to his elbows in the cool pool. He cried aloud, bringing some to his mouth to drink. He turned greedy for the taste of it and gorged himself until he felt like an ocean rested in his belly. 

“Satisfied?” a voice teased from somewhere behind him. 

Gaara turned, stumbling to see, perched atop one of the rocks, a woman with pale hair, paler skin, and eyes as vibrant as emeralds. Her smile cut her lips into something spellbinding, as Gaara found himself transfixed at the sight of her. 

She laughed at his expression and rolled off the rocks, drifting more than falling. Behind her the long train of her dress trailed, curling with the breeze until she stood in front of him. Gaara felt his throat grow tight as he tried to swallow and keep his eyes off the way a slit in the fabrics cut all the way up to her thigh, showing off leagues of soft flesh. 

“You look even cuter when you’re startled, I think,” she laughed, kneeling down so she was closer to his level. 

Gaara’s eyes kept wavering, too amazed by the curve of her uncovered shoulders and bare arms. He could see so much of her, more than he was used to seeing in a desert landscape where sun-death was as common as thirst. 

She wasn’t human.

“Temptress,” he choked out. “I’ve been seduced into your lair and now you’re going to-to kill me here.”

She blinked in surprise and then burst out laughing, standing suddenly to better grab at her stomach as the mirth of his words shook her shoulders. “Temptress?” she gasped. “I’m not even an angel this time? You must be a heretic of some sort.”

“I know no spring or oasis would open itself for one with my minuscule faith. I am not delusional,” Gaara struggled to answer. 

“I’m not going to eat you, silly heathen.”

“Then you mean to deflower me!” he accused, backing away, face red and warm from the admission.

“A tempting offer, but no. I’m not in the habit of seducing half dead heartbroken boys so you may rest easy, Gaara of the wind tribe, I’m not here to do you any ill.” She swept the train of her dress behind her and dipped low into an old fashioned bow from before bows became reserved for men exclusively. “I am Sakura, and I simply wished to save your life.” 

“Wh-what benefit is there for you to do so?”

“Are you not wealthy?” she teased.

Gaara reached for the pouch of coins and tossed the bag at her feet. It opened and spilled, scattering glittering coins of silver, bronze, and gold. He eyed her warily to see what she would do next.

Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes, tilting her head back to better see the stars. Behind her the short cut of her sunset pink hair shifted, nearly ethereal in how it moved without touching her shoulders. 

“I have no use for your silver, boy, take these back,” she said, motioning with her bare toes to the spilled coins. “I risk so much for far greater rewards, such you could never pay.” 

“What do you want from me then?” Gaara asked, making no move to gather his money pouch. 

“Sit with me among the flowers and talk awhile. In the morning I will send you off with food and water. I swear upon the stars no ill will come to you from me here in this oasis.” 

Gaara hesitated. The creature before him was not human, she was a being of magic and starlight, one who could bloom waters in the desert and command the plants to flower with fruit. Beautiful as she was, Gaara didn’t want to make the mistake of thinking her mediocre. If she was truly a creature from Chiyo’s tales, he needed to show her reverence.

Gaara shifted, folding his legs under him until they were bent. He touched his face to the ground and bowed low. “Great spirit, I thank you for your mercy. I shall do as you bid me.”

“Sakura,” she breathed, chuckling. “Please just call me Sakura. Now stand and join me by the flowers. You must tell me of your quest.” 

Gaara climbed to his feet and saw her hand offered where he could reach and grab it. He hesitated before accepting, and Sakura led him to a natural stone table with benches on either side. A pair of goblets had already been set out with sweet wine and plates overflowing with ripe fruits waited for him.

He sat and told her the story of his sister and brother, about how he wanted to at the very least, find their bodies and bring them back. He told her of Chiyo’s stories, of the talking bird and other treasures. He told her of the Wind Tribe, of his people who were strong and vast. He told her of the prophecies around his birth. He told her of the elders who raised him. He told her of his favorite steed, and hunting bird. He told her of where he ran the fastest and where he meditated. 

Before he could help it, he was spilling all his secrets to her, eager to appease her and win a small smile. She was a creature of magic, maybe even one of the star children. It made sense to appease her like how he appeased Chiyo and the sultan. 

But he never wanted Chiyo to smile at him that much. 

He never wished the sultan to laugh at his stories or ask him more. 

Soon the dawn’s pale light cut open the sky and filled it with color. Sakura stood from their table and he watched her move, marveling at the way she seemed more like water than flesh. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, standing to follow her. She stopped at the edge of her oasis and pointed. 

“I will show you where to go. Three days hard ride from here there will be a humbled king who speak to you. Be kind and listen, for he will tell you what you need to know,” Sakura said. 

“What about you?” Gaara asked.

Sakura smiled coyly and cupped two hands around her lips. She cried out, loud and clear a whistle that cut the desert air in half. A moment later Gaara heard the whinny of his favorite mare. 

“Look, she approaches,” Sakura said of his horse. “And with her she brings Temari’s hunting hawk. Take them both with you.”

“Sakura.” When she didn’t respond Gaara touched her hand, drawing her attention once more. “What will happen to you now?”

“I will go to where I always go. Should you be in need of me again, call out at nightfall and I may just appear.” 

“Promise?”

“Never,” Sakura laughed before she melted under his hand into water foam along with the rest of her oasis. 

Gaara reached for her desperately, trying to gather her up, but the foam dissolved on his fingers and even the scent of her was a memory. 

“Sakura?” he tried calling. Only the wind tickled his face, teasing him as his mare whinnied for his attention. 

After calling and searching, Gaara realized Sakura really was gone and that he had best do as she instructed, so he mounted his mare and turned the horse in the direction of the humbled king. Fed and watered his horse carried him over vast distances until dusk fell and he turned in for the night, taking shelter under the stars. 

He made a fire to fight off the desert cold and ate and drank of his goods. Before the stars could come out he dared one more call to Sakura. 

At first there was nothing. He watched and waited but no oasis bloomed. There were no flowers there was no water and no Sakura. 

“Was it a silly dream?” he wondered aloud.

“Dreams rarely feed us, Gaara,” Sakura teased, sitting down beside him. 

He nearly jumped when her arm brushed his. “Sakura? Wh-what are you doing here? You didn’t come when I called.”

“I am not your servant, young lord,” she teased, batting at his face when he came too close. “I shall come and go as I please. You are lonely, you need company, don’t you?” 

“I am quite lonely out here. Who else would listen to my voice but the wind.” 

“Oh the wind makes horrible conversation, all it talks about is the same dull things.”

Gaara smiled and settled back into place beside the fire. “Will you tell me things tonight?”

“Hmm?” Sakura arched a single brow in question.

“I’m sure I bored you plenty with all my useless chatter. Tell me about yourself this time,” he said. 

Sakura’s smile was coy and teasing. “Oh, you wish to know my secrets, do you?”

“I wish to know more about my friend.”

Sakura froze, utterly still as her eyes stayed wide, fixed on him. Then her lips moved but there was no sound, no voice to match their shape. Gaara knew what she meant to say.

“Yes, my friend, if you’ll allow it. I could also worship you, but i’m not sure how appropriate that might be if you think me a heathen. But, I think we could be friends if you will allow it.” 

After another moment Sakura stiffly nodded, seeming more human in her hesitance. “A friend… I don’t think I’ve had one of those in a long while,” Sakura breathed. “I’ll allow it.” 

Now it was Gaara’s turn to smile and Sakura’s turn to be thrown by the sight of it. “Now, will you tell me more about yourself? Do you have brothers or sisters?” 

“I have neither, or if I did, I do not remember them.” Sakura glanced towards the fire before waving her hand before it. The flames rand higher and thicker, casting long shadows. “It’s been a long time since I could remember my human days.”

“You were human?”

“Once.” 

Sakura waved her hand again and Gaara saw images in the fire begin the manifest. A small girl chased after a golden ball that fell into a hole. She cried and promised anything if only she could have her ball back, as young ones are bound to do. 

The flames shifted until a serpent came along, asking for a favor in return for the retrieval of her golden ball. ‘Anything, anything,’ the child promised. The serpent returned with her ball and promised her it would return for his favor when she came of age. 

The girl returned to her grandmother and learned the arts of her lineage until it was time for her to wed. That is when the serpent returned with his son, a prince who she would wed.

The story was pretty enough to be a fairytale children listened to before bed, but the serpent prince was not the hero he dressed himself to be. Instead of taking the girl as his wife, he took her to his city in the desert and dressed her in jewels before enchanting her along with the rest of the city. 

Before the enchantment could freeze her in place she begged her husband for the reason behind his crimes. He revealed himself to be a wicked creature, a demon long since freed from his ancient seal. The city was his trap, stocked with gold and treasures of the earth and flesh for whoever could find it. 

Many men tried, but the city was made by demon hands and trapped with trickery and evil. No one made it very far into the city before their sins consumed them. Men went mad on the walls, listening to the songs of siren voices. Adventures went insane at the sight of such treasures. The few who made it to the girl’s final resting place saw her on a throne and dripping with jewels. Those who reached for her with lust in their heart were struck dead by her bronze servants. 

And all the blood that ever flowed only fed the demon underneath the city further. 

“Then how are you here?” Gaara asked, looking away from the fire. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sakura joked, her shoulders sloped down and heavy. “If you mean the girl in the City of Bronze, well, I can’t speak on that. We’ve all been enchanted not to. See, what happened was-” 

Her voice was cut off, stolen away from her as she gasped aloud and shook her head, side to side. She waved to the fire and it turned blue with magic and then a new picture arose. Gaara saw the city of bronze collapse, crumble into the desert and be no more. 

Sakura breathed heavy and turned her face away. “There are too many sad stories, and I can tell you none of them. Only know that I am here now as real as I can be because of so much blood.” 

Her voice was tired and sad, making Gaara itch to pull her close and comfort her somehow. Whenever his sister was upset he would send her a plate of her favorite candies, or her favorite coffee. She was weak to good food. When his brother was upset he would send him something fine, a new javelin, a trusty steed, a fancy saddle. Kankuro was always cheered up by gifts. 

How could he lift Sakura’s spirits? 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he pleaded. 

“Tell me a funny story,” Sakura said, glancing towards the fire as the blue flames bled red again, her magic sapped. 

“Have you heard the story of the old woman and the devil?”

“Is this a funny story?” 

“The devil doesn’t win,” he answered.

“Then tell it to me,” Sakura laughed. 

So he did. 

The next day Gaara raced across the desert and at night he summoned Sakura again, and the dined on desert flower win and told more stories. 

The third night Gaara called for her again and Sakura was there, highlighted by the star’s light. 

“Is that the reason you can only come to me at night?” he asked. 

Sakura nodded along. “I borrow the star’s magic to leave and manifest this form. I haven’t been human since oh, since too many years ago, but even before then I knew the secret histories and their languages. I knew how to steal and to siphon and how to borrow the magic left in this world.” 

Something in her words made Gaara pause. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s so little magic left in the world. It’s getting harder and harder to appear each decade. The stars are never changing in their nature, but what of it if there are no hearts to behold their beauty and marvel at their wonder.”

“How does magic work?” 

“How does science work?” Sakura countered instead.

Gaara bristled. “Science makes sense. There is a reason for every reaction. There are formulas and reason.”

“Of course there are. Why is magic any different? I can reach out and touch the very atoms of a creature or object and direct them to the desired change with language. You may use oxygen and fuel and heat to create combustion, but I just excite the log into burning.” 

“If magic is so easy, why is not more prevalent among the people?”

“Did I say it was easy? How many centuries did I have to perfect these wretched words, tell me my friend!” Sakura laughed, clapping. Her hands rang out a sound that echoed in the sky above her, turning the clouds over into thunderheads in the desert. “Oh, but I’d trade it all to be a girl again.” 

“Why can’t you?” Gaara asked. 

“I don’t know the words for such a thing, but maybe one day I will discover them,” she said. “Breaking free from another creature’s enchantment requires knowing the nature of their spell or their true name. Once you know that, you can undo all their magic even if they’re dead or gone from this world.” 

“I’ll free you.” 

Sakura went still. Gaara moved closer and touched her arm, startling her. “No,” she breathed. “There is nothing left to free. That city is nothing but rubble. The bodies all gone. Please, don’t. Be content with this.”

“Do you know how many friends I have in this world?” Gaara argued. “I have you and I have my family. I have traveled and nearly died for my sister and brother. You think I wouldn’t do as much for you?” 

Sakura’s face fall with a soft sadness that made her look so old even if her face was as smooth and youthful as her first day at eighteen. “Sweet friend, please forget me and sleep instead.”

“Sakura I-”

But he was already falling, sliding sideways off the log. Up overhead the stars spun in circles before winking out, one by one by one…..

When he awoke in the morning Gaara roused his mare and led her the rest of the way, discovering the humble king resting under a palm tree. He was kind to the old man and listened to the story of a young boy and then his sister who came through seeking the same thing.

“You must travel there, to the base of that black mountain. There you will hear a great many voices that taunt and cajole you to turn around but you must not, for once your head is turned you will be just another black stone at the foot of the mountain.” 

“Even with inhuman willpower I still might turn around if I’m startled,” Gaara said. “I should probably just stuff my ears full of cotton or pig fat to keep from hearing anything-whoa, man!”

“What brilliance!” the old king exclaimed. “How ingenious-never have I heard such a plan in all my days. You may yet be the one who saves the talking bird for his own. A man of science for the ages, woe to the mystics.”

There was the ghost of a memory in his brain about a conversation he had with…someone about magic and science…but that memory was from so long ago, it wasn’t worth remembering. 

Gaara grimaced at the old man’s volume but didn’t say anything else. Instead he bowed in thanks and did just that. He approached the mountain and heard the first voices, though there were no bodies and, like the king said, the voices could do nothing to him. He stuffed his ears full of cotton until he could hear nothing and then began his trek. 

At the top of the mountain there was a golden cage. He grasped it firmly and pulled until it was free. The bird inside the cage roused from sleep and spoke with the voice of a human, clear and polished. 

“You have pulled me from the mountain. In thanks I will tell you where you may find the golden water and where you will find the singing tree.” 

“That’s all well and good, but I just want to find my sister and brother. Where are their bodies?”

“They have been turned to stone and one stone is as any other, I can not tell. But, I will tell you how to revive them. The water under my cage, take it and sprinkle it on the black stones before you. It will free them from their curse.”

“Like a chemical reaction,” Gaara murmured. 

He moved to do as the bird bid him and the first few stones were transformed back to their human bodies, breathing and alive. They thanked Gaara and praised him even as he ignored them in favor of finding his sister and brother. 

The sun moved across the sky and in time he came to the last two stones who were his dear sister and brother, alive and breathing! He gathered them up in his arms and cried again, too happy to have his dead siblings back from the grave to care about treasures or riches. 

That day the three of them left with the talking bird, the branch of the singing tree, golden water from the fountain, and a small army loyal to the one who freed them. 

In short time Gaara’s fame at the head of the Wind tribe grew. The conquests of his private army turned on tribe into two, and two into four, and four into fifteen, until an entire country looked to him for leadership and wisdom. 

The talking bird was a creature of legend, star crafted from the days of old and knowledgeable of a great many things. With his council Gaara guided his people and grew his tribe into a successful country that eventually swallowed even the sultan’s lands.

And yet the more of his days he spent, the lonelier he became. 

What was he missing?

What couldn’t he remember?

There was something… something he needed to remember. What was it?

“Bird, tell me the thing I seek.” 

“You seek a memory, my sultan,” the enchanted bird sang, flying about in his cage. 

“What is the memory I seek?” 

“One that is forgotten!”

The way the bird laughed provoked Gaara to anger, so he shook the cage to rattle its contents. “Speak, creature, as you are compelled to do, and release me from this pain in my chest.” 

“I am compelled to speak only truth and to answer my master, but the memory will only bring you more grief. Do you wish it, still?” 

The pain in Gaara’s heard was fierce and the only thing he could think of from one day to the next. His sister and brother ruled more than he did by this point, and the only thing his advisors needed him for was an heir. But the thought of marriage made him…

“I need this memory, speak it, bird!” he all but growled. 

“Very well then. Her name is Sakura. I shall tell you how to find her.” 


End file.
